Thursday, December 16, 2004

Child Snare, Part 2

And now… “The Jesus Freaks.”

When the Jesus Freaks took daily custody of me while my mom toiled away at her pharmacy, I remember thinking these were good people. And, for the most part, they were. But there were down falls (otherwise they wouldn’t be placed in the “Worst Child Care” pantheon).

For one, they owned a chicken coup and a spice garden, full of mint and coriander (I’m assuming here – but there WERE little plants in there, I swear) and probably the infamous “Cajun” spice I’m always seeing at Safeway (and you thought there was no such plant).

Anyhow, they were very strict with the TV viewing as well.

We were only allowed to watch Disney stuff, which was fine, except we were only allotted an hour, even in the WINTER time! Well, okay, so winter in Louisiana isn’t exactly the most unbearable elemental condition in the world, but still.

And while most kids probably didn’t find this lack of TV hypnosis too terrifying, I found it to be a akin to a death knell; fat kids who are always ‘it’ in tag and can’t catch anyone for the life of them tend to prefer lower impact exercises. Like breathing.

And even worse, there was no Nintendo in sight, which pretty much sent me into a fat-kid catharsis…I was terrified.

And incredibly bored.

Their house, besides being devoid of a Nintendo, was clad in country bumpkin patterns. From the drapes to the couch, if a chicken, cow, pig or farmer hat was a feature, it was plastered in this house. And not just the kitchen, either. The living room, the bedrooms…even the backyard had fake little pigs and chickens—and they had REAL chickens! Why force it? You have the real thing! It’s like wearing a ROLOX on your left and a ROLEX on your right – what’s the point?

I digress.

Furthermore, they were awfully religious, which is pretty much a given in the south. I don’t actually remember being force-fed Bible verses or preached too, but for some reason, it feels like it happened. Don’t ask me how. I just know.

Actually, they were remarkably similar to The Flanders in The Simpsons, the more I think about it. I don’t remember the dad (actually, I don’t remember the dad in any of these situations – they were probably at work, I guess) but the mom had the exact same mannerisms as Maude Flanders (overly sweet but quick to argue morals and judge people). And she was always busy in the kitchen. For whatever reason, she was always in there. And she, like Bubba Slob, ALWAYS found me whenever I was doing something she found unacceptable, which, in her eyes, was probably a lot.

Anyhow, she had a couple kids and they were nice enough, but they were brainwashed to the gills with morals. Seriously, I couldn’t get them to climb up to the top of the fridge for the deliciousness that was the large cookie jar (I wasn’t going up there, you kidding me?) for ANYTHING. Seriously, I could have offered them a million dollars (I probably did - I loved cookies...still do) and they wouldn't do it. They would jsut stand there, mouths agape, and look at me as if I had just killed a puppy for the sheer twisted pleasure of it, like I was the worst human being they had ever met.

They were terrified.

And yet, just a tiny bit intrigued. Thinking back, I bet I was three weeks from bringing them to The Dark Side.

But then my mom’s shift changed, and that was it for the Jesus Freaks.

(In all honesty, I have NO clue as to why I’ve attached “Jesus” to them. I guess it just fits.)

Oh well, it’s my memory; I can do what I want with it.

And I just removed one of the kid’s eyes for the hell of it.

So there.

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